Another week in Conakry

August 29 2010

 

     This week was interesting in many ways. On Tuesday after school, our driver Bivan took us to this governmental place in order that we may have our “carte de sejour”, a card that states that we are citizens of Guinee. We arrive in this place, a hole in the wall kind of place, puddles of mud and water that we had to walk around to wait in line for a short, important man to interrogate us. They took our passports and made copies of these. Then we were taken to another room where they took our finger prints and a picture. They asked me how tall I was in centimeters and all I could mumble as I looked on to Raymond for inspiration, was “5 foot five”. So the 3 Guineans in this office proceeded to guess my height. One man stood beside me and said “well I’m 175cm, so you must be 165”. We laughed and made light of this, enjoying the humour of the moment! So my card will say how tall I am(approxiamtely!) I was led to another place, a trailer-like place where they took a Polaroid picture of me. Then we walked back to the first place and handed over the pictures. That was it! Not bad  to process all this took about 30 minutes; for Africa time, this was quicker than I thought! True that they let us go before Guineans who had been waiting and because we are white there is a sort of  a reverence towards us. This doesn't always feel very good!

 

     On Wednesday, I met Tanit Carreno; she is the wife of the  deputy consulate, that is the second in command of the ambassador of Spain. Nice girl, who is 33 years old, just had a baby whose name is Patricio, pronounced Patreesee-o. Of course, the 5 month old baby is adorable and reminds me of my son Patrick. I am helping Tanit with her English and French oral exams  as she is taking a board exam to become a diplomat. Spanish is her first language and she needs help with 5 minute speeches that are part of the exam. We’ve decided we will meet 2-3 times a week to give her a boost before the exam which is scheduled in Spain in September. She wants to pay me but I declined and suggested rather that she give a donation to our school, perhaps much needed Library books. The extra money would have been nice as money is tight and we only live with cash here. Visa and Interac do not exist. Nevertheless, Tanit agreed to make a donation which will be greatly appreciated.

 

I was about to leave Tanit’s house at 6pm when her husband called and said that we should wait before leaving the house. The reason being was that there were many military trucks out and about. They were awaiting the arrival of the corpse of the ex-president’s son (he died in Montreal Monday…a drowning accident). It seemed that the entire city of Conakry was on high alert. So I had to wait in Tanit’s apartment for another 40 minutes. Actually we had a chance to talk about everything and nothing, which was great as I got to know her more. Tanit drove me home later in heavy traffic with military trucks visible and despite all this commotion, everything went smoothly.

 

Our driver Bivan’s  four year old son got malaria and Bivan had to bring him to the hospital and buy medications for him. My heart ached for the poor little guy. Of course Bivan has no medical insurance and with the salary of a driver here, I thought this must be a struggle for his family. Still, Bivan is very private and just told us the facts as they were. He reminds me of my grandfather Eloi Gagnon, who just passed away, in the sense of his character. He is quiet, serene and dedicated to driving us from home to school and wherever else we would like. He concentrates on driving when he is with us in the car; at times he talks and though we only understand half of what he says, we can get the jist.

I had difficulty falling asleep that night as I thought about Bivan and his little boy’s serious illness. I wonder what his home looks like and if they sleep under bed nets. So many malaria cases can be eliminated just by sleeping under bed nets. That was the first item that we bought on our arrival because I was well aware of the dangers of mosquito carrying malaria. I can’t help but wonder how many Guineans  have been violently sick or have died from this disease.

 

Today, Sunday was a great day! We walked to the Royal Riviera, the hotel where Raymond stayed on his trip here in May. We started at 10am so we would avoid the afternoon heat. When we arrived after a 40 minute walk, the Royal Riviera appeared like an oasis appears out in the desert. A large pool lined by tables awaited us. Wow! I thought I had died and gone to heaven! We sat and talked for an hour, just enjoying the  breeze and drinking our pop. Life was wonderful  and for an hour, I could forget that I was living in the poorest country in Africa. It was a boost for my morale to be in a lovely, well cared for environment! I was basking in the moment, in the sheer pleasure of finding this place, like someone who finds a treasure. I know where we will be coming next Sunday....we won't forget our bathing suits!

 

 

Sunday August 22: one month in Conakry

     Today we celebrate our month arrival in Conakry. What a month it has been! A month of grieving, observing and learning. It has also been a month of big changes: changes in the weather, culture, food and politics. Today we walked in a few new areas of Conakry. We went to a park, called Parc du 2 octobre....don't know why it is called like this but I'm sure there is a story. Raymond said that during his orientation trip in May, he was told that before the coup d'etat of last September, this park was full of people, vendors were everywhere and families would come in large numbers. Today we were the only 2 people walking around. There is potential for this park to be really nice! The bonus of walking in the parc, was that it was slightly cooler than walking on the road. Notice the long roots hanging from this tree.

     A favorite statue of mine is this statue of a black man freeing himself from chains. I find this statue very powerful! It speaks of freedom. The statue stands over 6o feet tall so it has a presence. You can't miss it!

     

On my way to school: Friday August 20 2010

This week was the first week of school. It went well! For me teaching Middle School is brand new. I never really liked this age very much, actually I found kids at Middle School excited, loud and generally annoying. Now I have to make my peace with Middle School students. After my first week, I can say that I quite enjoyed my students. True, I only have  7 students, so this gives me a unique experience of working with a very small group. Nevertheless, they keep me on my toes! My students are interesting but the drive to work is even more interesting, unpredictable and sometimes mind blowing. So I took pictures to document what I see on my way to school every day. The first picture is on a piece of aluminum fencing. Someone spray painted: Do not urinate here: 50000 francs fine ($8US). Isn't this is a hoot?

      The next picture is a closeup of an aluminum fence. These are all over the place. There are many holes to let the wind blow through. This is probably the cheapest material available in Guinee, which explains why there are so many of them. The fences can be found just about everywhere. I wouldn't want to fall on the sharp edges!

School

August 14 2010

Earlier I spoke of our little school and how it was in bad shape. It would need several thousand dollars to help clean it up, paint it and get it in very good shape. Actually the school looks better on the pictures than it does in reality, but the electric wiring is sketchy. Have a look!

Nudity

Thursday August  5 2010

 

Nudity-----I need to talk about nudity. Here in Guinea, there seems to be an ease with nudity. I saw a young boy, about age 10 washing himself from a basin  right on the street. I see women with open blouses. I see women with dresses and the shoulders fall off and they leave it that way. It surprises me. It shocks me at other times. Now I reflect that from my North American paradigm, nudity equals sex. People here are comfortable with their bodies. There is no shame and no reaction to nudity. Life and bodies….everything is in sync.here. Interesting.

Wednesday July 28 2010---Day 7----one week!

 

     We had a terrible night’s sleep. At about 2 am,  another power outage occurred. This time, it never came back on again, so it was getting very hot in our apt with the air conditioner off. We looked outside and the lights in other places were working. We couldn’t understand why our little apt was afflicted with this and not others. Raymond moved to the living room couch and opened the patio door; he did get some relief and was able to fall asleep again. I on the other hand, got sweatier and stickier and felt like I couldn’t breathe. I decided to also open my door which brought in a breeze, even if it was a warm one. The problem with opening a door is that you let in the noises of the night, like the dog barking and the grasshoppers whistling. We later learned that the breaker was down for our apt and the workers downstairs needed to be told  so that it could be  turned back on. Only in Africa! 

     We have a leisurely breakfast this morning, talking about our first week and how we have  overcome  some of the obstacles that come with a move to a third world country.  It has been the most challenging week, as we had to figure everything out by ourselves and everything takes time to understand and then to organize. We sure can be proud of ourselves for having undertaken such a challenge as this, a move to Africa in the most corrupt country at a time of political crisis. At lunch time, we set off to undertake the payment of our television subscription. Organized with our driver and Djana, we start off down the street, only to stop at the end of our street where Bevon knows that a guy  exchanges money right there at the corner. Funny how business is done here. Djana rolls down her window and asks today’s exchange rate, disagrees with the money guy and instantly makes a call on her cell to someone who seems to know about the US exchange rate. Finally, the money guy hands over wads of money to Djana who counts it carefully and gives her final ok; this pile of money is given to us in a little black plastic bag. This looked like  something from a movie, like a deal done on the black market, no pun intended! Raymond hands over his 10 US 100 dollar bills and the deal is done, right there at the street corner as we were driving by. Who would have known? Isn’t life more simple the North American way?

     We continue our drive downtown Conakry to the television business office in the pouring rain, stagnant traffic and huge potholes and mud. I notice people are walking in the puddles, whether they are wearing sandals or shoes. Some women lift their long skirts and some men pull up on their pant legs to facilitate the process of crossing the street. What a mess of mud! This is the rainy season and it goes on for another month like this, so I better get used to it. The television office transaction gets done in 10 minutes with part of the huge wad of money handed over to a naïve young girl who barely knows her job. How frustrating this is! Once this is done, we drive over to the Turkish restaurant with Djana; we want to thank her for all her help so we pay lunch for all of us. It is delicious Turkish food  as it always is and this is an islet of comfort with expatriates sitting  at tables next to us. I could be anywhere in the world right now. I just feel comfortable and happy. As we exit the restaurant, we enter an appliance store. I am looking for an ironing table and an iron. We are astonished at the prices: $130 for an ironing table and $120 for an iron. Dissapointment sets in. I turn to Djana and ask her: “what do you do to iron your clothes?” She answers that she has an iron and uses a towel at the end of a table. My quest for irons is finished for the day. I accept in my mind that I will walk around with wrinkled cotton blouses, linen skirts and pants, so be it. It is a lesson in humility.

     Our last shop of the day is a small store that looks like a Dollar Store. I feel more comfortable here then in the expensive appliance store. Here we buy a broom, a few plastic containers and other household items. A good day is done, but I am getting very restless inside. I want to meet people that live here and I want to get involved. Spending time reading and writing my blog is not enough to keep me happy and energised. Hopefully soon I will meet new people!

 

Thursday July  29 2010----Day 8

     This morning, the television technician is scheduled to arrive at 8:30. I’ll believe it when I see it. By 10 o’clock, no sign of anyone and a few calls revealed that the technician could not come today but he was sending someone else. At 1 oclock technician #2 arrives and works all afternoon; he goes on the roof of the building, connects wires somewhere else in the building and at 4;30 tells us it is time to see how the TV works. He works and works with the remote controls only to tell us that the TV is defective. Raymond is extremely disappointed. What now? We will have to think carefully about this; buying a new TV at $200 is not something we can afford right now. Frustrating though as we had bought this TV from the previous director. The only explanation we can come up with is that it was broken during the move from his apartment to our apartment. 

     Two highlights of my day was meeting Ashmarah the amazing bread maker. I stepped out of the apt around noon to go buy fresh, out of the oven warm baguette and there he was, a big burly man standing in front of his oven with a parade of fresh baguettes lined up in front of him. He handed me a warm baguette for the price of 1,500 Francs (18 cents).  Needless to say, we had a great lunch  of avocado, baguette and fresh tomatoes.   Again, we are enjoying a feast of fresh produce!

        My second highlight was walking to Marche Super Bobo by myself, leaving Raymond in his depressed state over his not yet installed TV. I took my time to really rake through that little store and I found an ironing board and a clothes rack for 200,000 Francs ($30) each. I am pretty excited with this find as today Jeanne and I figured out how to work the washing machine but had to get creative as to how to dry the clothes. We ended up carefully draping the wet clothes over the balcony ledge in the hope that the wind wouldn’t blow our t-shirts and (heaven forbid!) our underwear down in the street!  As I write this, I realize that it must sound petty to report about underwear and socks drying in the sun, but for us everything is a challenge and every success is  met with celebration! I’ve seen people here hang clothing on clothing lines,  lay clothing on the ground and drape it over small bushes. So my own efforts at drying our clothing fall in the normal category, at least according to African standards.

 

Wednesday July 28 2010---Day 7----one week!

 

     We had a terrible night’s sleep. At about 2 am,  another power outage occurred. This time, it never came back on again, so it was getting very hot in our apt with the air conditioner off. We looked outside and the lights in other places were working. We couldn’t understand why our little apt was afflicted with this and not others. Raymond moved to the living room couch and opened the patio door; he did get some relief and was able to fall asleep again. I on the other hand, got sweatier and stickier and felt like I couldn’t breathe. I decided to also open my door which brought in a breeze, even if it was a warm one. The problem with opening a door is that you let in the noises of the night, like the dog barking and the grasshoppers whistling. We later learned that the breaker was down for our apt and the workers downstairs needed to be told  so that it could be  turned back on. Only in Africa! 

     We have a leisurely breakfast this morning, talking about our first week and how we have  overcome  some of the obstacles that come with a move to a third world country.  It has been the most challenging week, as we had to figure everything out by ourselves and everything takes time to understand and then to organize. We sure can be proud of ourselves for having undertaken such a challenge as this, a move to Africa in the most corrupt country at a time of political crisis. At lunch time, we set off to undertake the payment of our television subscription. Organized with our driver and Djana, we start off down the street, only to stop at the end of our street where Bevon knows that a guy  exchanges money right there at the corner. Funny how business is done here. Djana rolls down her window and asks today’s exchange rate, disagrees with the money guy and instantly makes a call on her cell to someone who seems to know about the US exchange rate. Finally, the money guy hands over wads of money to Djana who counts it carefully and gives her final ok; this pile of money is given to us in a little black plastic bag. This looked like  something from a movie, like a deal done on the black market, no pun intended! Raymond hands over his 10 US 100 dollar bills and the deal is done, right there at the street corner as we were driving by. Who would have known? Isn’t life more simple the North American way?

     We continue our drive downtown Conakry to the television business office in the pouring rain, stagnant traffic and huge potholes and mud. I notice people are walking in the puddles, whether they are wearing sandals or shoes. Some women lift their long skirts and some men pull up on their pant legs to facilitate the process of crossing the street. What a mess of mud! This is the rainy season and it goes on for another month like this, so I better get used to it. The television office transaction gets done in 10 minutes with part of the huge wad of money handed over to a naïve young girl who barely knows her job. How frustrating this is! Once this is done, we drive over to the Turkish restaurant with Djana; we want to thank her for all her help so we pay lunch for all of us. It is delicious Turkish food  as it always is and this is an islet of comfort with expatriates sitting  at tables next to us. I could be anywhere in the world right now. I just feel comfortable and happy. As we exit the restaurant, we enter an appliance store. I am looking for an ironing table and an iron. We are astonished at the prices: $130 for an ironing table and $120 for an iron. Dissapointment sets in. I turn to Djana and ask her: “what do you do to iron your clothes?” She answers that she has an iron and uses a towel at the end of a table. My quest for irons is finished for the day. I accept in my mind that I will walk around with wrinkled cotton blouses, linen skirts and pants, so be it. It is a lesson in humility.

     Our last shop of the day is a small store that looks like a Dollar Store. I feel more comfortable here then in the expensive appliance store. Here we buy a broom, a few plastic containers and other household items. A good day is done, but I am getting very restless inside. I want to meet people that live here and I want to get involved. Spending time reading and writing my blog is not enough to keep me happy and energised. Hopefully soon I will meet new people!

 

Thursday July  29 2010----Day 8

     This morning, the television technician is scheduled to arrive at 8:30. I’ll believe it when I see it. By 10 o’clock, no sign of anyone and a few calls revealed that the technician could not come today but he was sending someone else. At 1 oclock technician #2 arrives and works all afternoon; he goes on the roof of the building, connects wires somewhere else in the building and at 4;30 tells us it is time to see how the TV works. He works and works with the remote controls only to tell us that the TV is defective. Raymond is extremely disappointed. What now? We will have to think carefully about this; buying a new TV at $200 is not something we can afford right now. Frustrating though as we had bought this TV from the previous director. The only explanation we can come up with is that it was broken during the move from his apartment to our apartment. 

     Two highlights of my day was meeting Ashmarah the amazing bread maker. I stepped out of the apt around noon to go buy fresh, out of the oven warm baguette and there he was, a big burly man standing in front of his oven with a parade of fresh baguettes lined up in front of him. He handed me a warm baguette for the price of 1,500 Francs (18 cents).  Needless to say, we had a great lunch  of avocado, baguette and fresh tomatoes.   Again, we are enjoying a feast of fresh produce!

        My second highlight was walking to Marche Super Bobo by myself, leaving Raymond in his depressed state over his not yet installed TV. I took my time to really rake through that little store and I found an ironing board and a clothes rack for 200,000 Francs ($30) each. I am pretty excited with this find as today Jeanne and I figured out how to work the washing machine but had to get creative as to how to dry the clothes. We ended up carefully draping the wet clothes over the balcony ledge in the hope that the wind wouldn’t blow our t-shirts and (heaven forbid!) our underwear down in the street!  As I write this, I realize that it must sound petty to report about underwear and socks drying in the sun, but for us everything is a challenge and every success is  met with celebration! I’ve seen people here hang clothing on clothing lines,  lay clothing on the ground and drape it over small bushes. So my own efforts at drying our clothing fall in the normal category, at least according to African standards.

 

Tuesday July 27 2010---Day 6

 

     Jen just called. She invited me to go to the aerobics class she was teaching and then go grab a bite to eat and have coffee. “Sounds great Jen,” I said, “I can’t wait”. When I think of Jen, I get a smile in my heart. She has this boundless, positive energy and a heart full of love. I love being around her. When we are together, we have meaningful conversations about our lives, our children, our struggles and our purpose in life. I love conversations that go beyond the surface. They are life-giving as if we touch each other’s hearts and we re-vitalize each other from within. I have a few friends like Jen whom I can connect with at a deeper level.  All of a sudden, I was very hot. I wake up and realize I am in Guinée and the air conditioner has stopped, due to a power outage, again. Jen did not call. I was having a nice dream. I turn the AC  back on again. A sadness sweeps over me. I am really in Guinée and not in Canada. It seemed so real that I was going to the aerobics class and then meeting with Jen and I struggle to understand. Funny how the mind works at 1am. I lay awake, filled with this sadness.  I am convinced that Jen really called and that I was to meet her. Physically I am here but my mind is still in Canada. All through the 6 month decision making process and since my arrival, in Guinée I have felt at peace with this move. It is right to be here. I need to learn some life lessons about living with less money, eating less and needing less services. I have something to learn from Africa. I am not sure what all these lessons will be but I have a certitude from deep inside that it is good to be here and it is right to be here. It is also good to be here as a couple, to learn to just be together and rekindle our relationship of 29  years after raising our 2 wonderful children, now young adults.

      Talk about jumping in feet first in this stage of life called empty nesters. We actually chose to flee the nest and start another nest elsewhere in the world. Still, the melancholy haunts me all day today, clinging to me like my clothing is to my body in this humid weather. I want to be doing something, not just staying in the apartment all day. I need to meet new people, expatriates if possible, so I can get their perspective on their lives here. I feel so isolated right now.  I’d also like to read up on the curriculum and start to learn what I will be teaching. It is  new for me to teach grades 5 to 8 Language Arts, ESL and art. I would like to read up as I have a lot of time on my hands right now, too much time.

     Our housekeeper Jeanne arrives before 9am. She is ready to work at whatever I would like her to do. I first thank her heart fully for all the work she did yesterday. The apartment was spotless! She smiles her shy smile and looks down. It seems I do not have to tell her anything. Right away, she changes in her work clothes and  starts washing our breakfast dishes, then proceeds to wash all 3 bathrooms and ends with scrubbing the floors. She works non-stop. Raymond and I sit in the 2^nd bedroom, feeling somewhat uncomfortable and embarrassed to have someone “serve us” in this way. But it is custom here to have a housekeeper and it gives this mother of four an employment.

     When she is done cleaning, she tells me she is ready to cook. I decide to explain how to make egg sandwiches. She has never done this before. So we boil eggs (they are not frozen anymore, so it makes it easier!) and  we chat as we slice some green onions. She explains that she has worked for a Lebanese family, a French woman, then the Australian principal last year and now us. She was yelled at a lot by the Lebanese family and  said she suffered a lot from this. Jeanne is a small, beautiful Guinean woman. She has a heart of gold I can tell. I enjoy spending this time with her.  When she sees that I am making the egg sandwiches with the 2 last slices of bread left in the house, she offers to go and buy bread for us down the street. In a flash she comes back with a small baguette, still hot wrapped in a tea towel. Who can resist fresh baked bread? Needless to say the egg sandwiches were delicious and with a spread of  fresh avocado, we could have opened our own little delicatessen.

 

     After Jeanne leaves at 1 o’clock,  we wait. We wait and wait for the television technician to arrive so he can connect us to the rest of the world. It would be good to get news and some entertainment also. He said he would be here at 10am but he appears at 1pm…we call this African time.  He goes on the roof and fixes something then leaves. He appears again at 4:30. He explains that the satellite dish needed to be connected on the roof of our building. Now we need to pay the subscription and the 2 million Guinean Francs needed as start-up costs. We need to go back to the business office tomorrow to pay the 2 million francs, which really sounds enormous but it comes to  $256 US . But before we go to the television office, we need to exchange more of our US money. In order to get more US money, we need Djana to help us with this as she has connections on the street to get the best exchange rate. To get to do all this, we need to call our driver Bevon, as he needs to drive us to the office. Everything is so complicated in Africa. I am tired just writing this. But as complex as this seemed, a few phone calls later  it is all organized for tomorrow(fingers crossed). 

Monday July 26 2010---Day 5

 

       The alarm clock was set for 7 am and  to hear that beep-beep-beep-beep sound this morning was not much fun!   Another sleepless night in Conakry.  Some community celebration of music and drums kept us awake till 2 in the morning; add to this mix the nagging jet lag and you have a recipe for disaster…or almost!  I stagger out of bed, make coffee and head for the shower. Today we are going to school to get connected to the internet, meet  Jeanne our housekeeper, find out how to connect the TV and go get more groceries. It will be a full day!

       It was beautiful as I looked out my balcony this morning. The terra cotta buildings across from my balcony looked brighter than usual. I observe a small girl stepping out of her house. She might be 3 or 4 years old. She pulls down her underwear, squats and proceeds to urinate. Right there, right in the soil in front of her home. She has no inhibitions or concerns as she plays with the soil.  I watch her longer waiting to see what will happen next. She stands  pulling up her underwear, walks over to the veranda, picks up a broom made of long branches and starts to sweep. Seeing her do this startles me more than what she did previously.  In Africa, women are expected to work  and they start very young, but this young? She made fast sweeping motions with her broom as if she had been doing this for a very long time. I’ve seen young girls as young as 6 years old carry babies on their back and carry water on their heads. I have seen some boys also carry items on their heads, but I have not seen boys or men clean or cook yet. I wonder if they do.

      The rest of the day went well as we accomplished all the tasks we had set out to do. Our driver Bevin continues to amaze me with his driving skills; when he drives, he does not talk.  I’ve learned not to initiate conversations with him. He has to concentrate so much as there is so much going on all the time: huge potholes on the roads, people jay walking, people begging coming right at our window and young boys selling items from Kleenex to belts to soap. Everything you can think of is sold on the streets! You have to ignore it all because if you say no thank you, they keep nagging you to buy. Turning your face away seems to be the best way to handle this. It is difficult to ignore those begging. There is a mother with 2 babies wrapped on her body, one on her back and one on her front, a man with one arm and another in a man made wheel chair of sort, unable to walk, his legs all distorted. It is difficult and heart wrenching to  ignore and not give them 1000 Guinean Francs(about 80 cents) . I know that if we start to give money, word will get around that there are new white people in town and to go after them. Still, it is hard to see and accept poverty. If I had food to give, I would give it, but  I don’t. I was told that this is a hardship posting and I am just beginning to get a glimpse of what this really means.

 

Sunday July 25 2010---Day 4

 

      Today was even slower than yesterday. My head is heavy with a head cold, probably the result of the constant air conditioning  in the apartment and the shock of the heat as soon as you step outside. I’m sure  the stress of the trip also plays into this  right now. Where’s the Cold FX when I need it? Luckily Tylenol and Advil come in handy and I float through the day aimlessly, reading, sorting out my school materials, sewing buttons on a skirt and making soup. Homemade soup when you have a cold is still the best remedy wherever you are in the world! Our day is a very lazy one. It is a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. I wonder if Sundays are different here in Conakry, with my Guinean neighbours. I step out on the balcony to observe. Women seem to be dressed up a little more today and everyone seems to be more relaxed. A group of teenage boys are playing a game, similar to backgammon; they use a chair to hold the game. In a garden on the left a group of women are sitting close to each other and chatting up a storm. They seem to be enjoying each others company and stay  together for a few hours sitting on hard  wooden benches. A young child is playing by himself sitting on the ground, not too far from the women. A young boy waves at me, gesturing for me to come and eat. I wave back, and stay safely on my balcony. If only we had a sponsor, someone that would walk with us and introduce us to people or tell us more about what to do and what not to do. We are really alone. This posting is so different from all the other postings we’ve had before. In the past overseas assignments, someone was assigned to “walk us through” our first week. That sponsor was priceless as he/she would help us open a bank account, show us where to buy our groceries, get us to the offices to install the telephone and TV and just answer all the questions we had. Here in Guinée, we have to figure everything out by ourselves and it makes our life much more challenging. Luckily for us, we speak  French the official  language of the country. This is a life saver.

       At 6pm I tell Raymond we need to go for a walk; we step out of hibernation. We walk unto the street and head for the ocean…I would love to go sit by the ocean. The problem is that we are very unsure of our surroundings, where to go, how we are perceived by the Guineans, if we are breaking any cultural rules, etc. etc. and basically and truthfully we  are scared! If only my skin colour was black right now! It makes me reflect on the visible minorities in Canada and how we treat them. Now I am a visible minority.  It doesn’t feel very good, not very comfortable at all.  As I process this, I meet the first white woman since my arrival. She says bonjour as we walk by. I hold myself back, wanting to strike up a conversation. No sooner has she passed us, that a caravan of big shiny cars come by….and I see for the first time what I was dreading to see……a truck load of military men wearing red berets. Yikes! We assume this is the presidential motorcade.  Once they drive by, I sigh a deep breath and turn to Raymond. “So that was it huh?”  “yup” he said and we continue our walk, turning unto a side street. I admit being apprehensive of this event, especially with everything we know about the political unrest right now.  Up ahead we see a small fruit and vegetable stand  where a beautiful young woman was beckoning us to come and see. Another breath…it can’t be that bad to barter for fruit. We know that she will ask us more than she would from her fellow Guineans, but that’s what you get for being white. We bargain for bananas, mangoes and she adds an avocado, telling me that she wants me to come again.  She doesn’t want to lower her price. So we end up paying about $2.40. This would have cost close to $12 in Canada. And you can’t get fresher than this….the bananas are very sweet, still clumped together from their original stem and the huge mangoes are so delicious they melt in my mouth. As for the avocado, this will be tomorrow’s treat. Well we did it!! We bargained and it did not hurt too much.  We feel proud of ourselves, having taken another step out of our comfort zone, even if I did not sit by the ocean. It will be for another day, hopefully!

 

Frozen eggs!!!

 

Saturday July 24 2010 9pm

 

       Today was a slow day. We got up at 10:30am. I did not sleep well through the night; the jet lag caught up to me. My body thinks night is day and day is night. It will take a few more days to adjust to the time change. I remember this happened to me when we had moved to Belgium and also when we moved to Saudi Arabia. Just be patient I told myself, this too shall pass.  I also did not sleep well because through the night there was a loud storm, gusting wind, lightning  and sheets of rain pounding down. The rain in Vancouver is pissy compared to this!  During our conversation with D. at the Embassy yesterday I learned that there are no good places in town for breakfast, so breakfast “a la Madeleine on weekends” it was going to be! I had 30 eggs in the fridge and I was dreaming of whipping up a great omelette with   fresh onions and mushrooms. At the Super Marche Bobo yesterday, we had hesitated paying $10 for cheddar cheese but now every little shred of that cheese would be revered this morning. I couldn’t wait to make the best omelette ever. This was going to be such a treat. As I opened the fridge door,  I noticed the frozen jug of water. Oh no this is not good! I took the eggs out and sure enough they were frozen! I had never seen frozen eggs before and did not even know this could happen! To my astonishment, I looked at the temperature control and it was at its’ coldest! Now what? I decided to let the eggs thaw out. Can we get sick on frozen eggs? Probably not and I proceeded to make the omelette. Raymond said it was the best omelette I had ever made! I agreed!

        The rest of the day we moved our few pieces of furniture around to make our small apartment as cozy as possible. After all, this is home for the next 2 years!  We do not have TV or internet yet so we have a lot of time on our hands, time to ponder…and also to talk and process all  our feelings.  It is so good to talk and not be interrupted by phones, work, internet or other North American distractions.  Life has slowed down considerably since we have arrived here. We only have each other and I am cherishing all this good togetherness time. After the used Embassy furniture had been rearranged, I emptied out my suitcases. So much stuff…..why do we have so much stuff? I wonder if all the stuff that I brought here will be useful. Time will tell.

      I got homesick later in the afternoon and I wanted to  phone our children.  Saturdays were usually our times to phone Nadine in Winnipeg. I miss not knowing how she is doing and also how Patrick is doing in Vancouver.  In the evening, the noise level and commotion  on the street caught my attention. From our 5^th floor balcony, we watch our Guinean neighbours hustle about, carrying plastic patio chairs on their heads, the same kind of chairs I remember seeing at Zellers. Something is in the air, something is brewing for sure. I see a small van brimming over with tam-tams, djembés and women walking ever so graciously with baskets of bread on their heads, while others carry baskets of bananas. Little kids are running in the street. Music is coming from a covered area; maybe this is a community centre. Looks like a party is happening. I’m curious about this celebration. I wish I was invited. My need to make friends  and expand my little world is nudging me from the inside. I’m a relational  person and need to connect with others. I’m looking forward to making new friends. I feel very alone and cut off from my children, family, friends and the rest of the world!   Raymond and I are alone here, two souls in this new world that is not our world. I know this discomfort will ease off in its own time as we get used to this new place.

       Let’s just hope and pray that the political unrest subsides, that the elections  scheduled for August 1^st are positive and that this country in distress gets back on its feet. All this and much more will unfold in the next few weeks. So often back in Canada, my time spent with friends camouflages another need, that of quiet and solitude. Am I  running away from myself? Do I like being alone for hours on end and just be my own best friend? Am I comfortable with silence? Something I need to ponder.

 

11pm----phone call

 I tried calling maman in Winnipeg. It worked in an instant and she sounded like she was just next door! It felt great to talk with her. We chatted  a few minutes but it was enough to give me that sense of belonging in the world again and not feel so isolated. Then a few minutes after I hung up, Nadine called. Another boost of happiness. It was so important as we are really disconnected from the rest of the world right now. I can sleep peacefully now knowing that my family can reach us.

 

Clash of cultures

July 23 2010 8pm

Our first Friday in Guinée and second day in Conakry. I wake up to the sound of rain. I walk to my patio and observe the action on the street. People are walking in the pouring rain, a few have umbrellas and many walk as if oblivious to the pouring rain. It is 8:30…we have slept in. I wake up Raymond to the words…...”we’re still here.” He is having a tough time…so far in the morning he says…..there are only 687 days to go”. I get our first breakfast ready, muesli cereal, bananas and cappucinos. I’m in heaven as I sip my cappuccino! A sense of normalcy sweeps over me…in my mind I am back home.
We leave for the US embassy where we meet D. and have a briefing with him. Guinée is considered number 9 in the top 10 in the “failed nation state “category; Haiti is number 1 right now. I guess this Failed Nation state category is the embassy lingo used for describing a country that is struggling with poverty, health, education issues and crime. Walking into the Embassy is like being back home…..the building is built like offices back home, normal offices everywhere. It feels good and weird at the same time…good because it is the known of my life and comforting. It feels weird because it is cognitive dissonance from the life we have seen outside this building, the wealth and the poverty sitting side by side, each existing in it’s own world.
From the Embassy, we drive to school. Life just gets a little rougher. The area we drove through to get to the school must be the poorest in Conakry. People seem to be living on the sidewalks. Two little boys were scrubbing each other down…one boy scrubbing his brother’s back, laughing as the suds poured down their backs. I watched this little bit of life as if I was watching a film; it seemed surreal to me. We were on our way to meet Deepak the treasurer of the school board who was handing over the keys of the school to Raymond. He offered us tea and expresso. He explained that his 2 daughters attended the school (grades 4 and 5). I wonder if I will teach them.
Leaving Deepak’s office in the dark because of a power outage, our driver managed to get us through the mayhem of huge trucks, children running and people preparing food. At one point he flipped his outside mirrors, barely scraping by the huge truck delivering exported goods from Deepak’s warehouse. He did this very matter of fact, obviously he has done this before. What a zoo! How can people live in such extreme situations amazes me. The contrast of the visit to the Embassy and this life on the streets was incredible and too much to take. I can’t find the words to describe the shock and the extremes of two cultures. We drove to visit the school. It was in bad shape…after all this was holiday time and it has been 6 weeks since school had closed in mid-June. I had a flashback of the schools I had visited in Senegal…there was a strange resemblance….here there were tiles on the floor while in Senegal there were dirt floors. Our little school was in bad shape. Mouse droppings and cob webs were in evidence. Paint was flaking off the walls and everything needed repairs, paint and lots of TLC! Raymond reassured me that it looked much better in May when all the workers were there for the upkeep. Nevertheless, my heart sank for I wondered how I will be able to teach well in such dire conditions. Ah well there are only 686 days left…

Ma journee de fete

22 juillet 2010 7pm: Bonne fete Madeleine!

Quelle journée remplie! On est sortie vers 8h30am pour aller déjeuner à l hotel Camayenne juste au bout de notre rue. Hotel fermée, abandonée depuis les problèmes politiques et meme un endroit pour un cercle de drogues.Oops...on n'ira pas dejeuner ici! Je suis décue, mais je ne veux pas etre dans un endroit comme ca. J’ aurais voulue un peu de normal, c’est à dire un bon déjeuner et un café pour mon premier déjeuner en Guinée et pour commencer la journée de ma fete. On a marché dans quelques rues pour s’apercevoir que tout était bien tranquille; le Super Marché Bobo n’ouvrait pas avant 10h. Quoi faire? On retourne a l appt. On a faim tous les 2. On n’a pas mangé depuis hier soir. Je me dis que bien d’autres sur cette terre ont faim et que je n’ai pas a me plaindre. Quelques heures sans manger, ca ne fera pas de tort. Au contraire. On décide d’appeler Djana et le chauffeur Bivan pour leur dire qu’on est prêt a partir. Djana est venue nous chercher vers 11h et on est aller manger au Damier, un des meilleurs restaurants francais en ville. Finalement on a mangé un sandwich vers midi et j ai eu mon café au lait tant attendu! Yummmm! Sorti du resto, on a marchandé pour 2 oreillers et un moustiquaire pour notre lit. C’était toute une expérience…tout autour de nous, 5 -6 Guineens qui voulaient nous vendre des pinces, des serviettes, un fer a repasser. Ils étaient comme des vautours. J’ai laissé Djana marchandé car je n avais aucune idée des prix et de la valeur de l'argent. Je l admire….elle est fonceuse et ne se fait pas marcher sur les pieds! Elle veut devenir entrepreneur, ouvrir une patisserie et boulangerie. Je la vois très bien faire ca et réussir. Après le marchandage intense au grand soleil, on est aller a Leader Price, un magasin genre Walmart pour acheter un peu de nourriture et des choses pour l apartement. Ensuite, on va a un autre magasin Super Marché Bobo(quel drole de nom!). Djana marchande pour des fruits et légumes et une des marchandes se dispute avec elle lui disant qu elle est méchante car elle ne veut pas payer le “prix de l homme blanc”. Raymond veut prendre une photo de moi avec Djana entrain d acheter des fruits et legumes, mais un militaire en uniforme veut que Raymond lui donne la camera et le suive….”venez avec moi” d un ton autoritaire. Raymond demeure tres calme et demande pourquoi il veut la camera. L homme marmotte quelque chose disant que les gens font des photos ensuite vendent ca comme ca partout. Raymond lui montre les photos et dit: voila une photo de ma belle-mère. Le petit incident fini par s’éteindre. On retourne chez nous avec nos oreillers, nos achats et nos fruits et legumes, épuisées de notre premiere pleine journée à Conakry.

Birthday girl!!

le 22 juillet 2010: 5h30am

J’entend les chants des prières de la mosquée de ma chambre a coucher. Je me lève pour
aller voir sur mon balcon. Quelques hommes marchent lentement dans la rue déserte.Un petit vent frais me caresse le visage. C est une bonne facon de commencer ma journée de fete…mes 55 ans….je vois les palmiers qui se font balancer par ce vent tropical et les oiseaux chantent, des chants d’oiseaux que je ne reconnais pas. Me voici a Conakry, en Guinée. Qui aurait cru que je me serais retrouvée ici? La petite fille de St-Pierre Jolys est rendue bien loin de son monde qu’elle a connue, bien loin de son comfort canadien. Aujourd’hui cette fille n’est plus fille mais bien femme, femme qui ouvre un nouveau chapitre de sa vie. Bonjour mes 55 ans!

After the chaos of the arrival at the airport last night, so typical of 3rd world countries, it is nice to sit in the quiet of this new apartment with air conditioning…thank you very much! Last night was an adventure! The expeditor was at the airport to greet us, Djana (pronounced Jana)the business manager of the school greeted me with a hug and Bevan the driver managed to get our 6 pieces of luggage in the car. I was relieved that we were welcomed by the persons Raymond had met in May during his exploratory trip in Conakry. No one had confirmed that they would be at the airport to pick us up; we had talked about plan B if no one would be there. Luckily we did not have to execute plan B. We arrived at our apartment at 9pm; it was dark outside so I had no sense of our surroundings, but I could guess it was pretty shabby, dirty and poor. The apartment is ok, not luxurious, but clean. After realizing that we had no bottled water, soap, pillows and toilet paper we asked the apartment manager if we could buy these somewhere tonight. No problem he said. We walked with him down our dimly lit street to a corner store….well it was a shack of some sort and I could not even see the woman serving us, just her shadow. On a small table in the middle of her store, the size of a closet, there was a small candle. How interesting I thought…corner store by candlelight. It did create an ambiance, though a little spooky for this barely landed Canadian chick. Perhaps our North American corner stores could modify their high powered florescent lights and loud music with candles. We bought the soap and water. Toilet paper??? No they did not have that. What I would do now to have a Seven Eleven! No toilet paper…so we got creative, but I’ll skip the details. This was our first night in Conakry…welcome to my new world!